


cope

by Basketbaes



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bottom Felix, Canon Compliant, Jealousy, M/M, One-sided pining, Pre-War, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-07 12:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21458302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basketbaes/pseuds/Basketbaes
Summary: Well, he can't figure out why Felix is suddenly down to start dating, but damn if Sylvain is going to just sit by and let this historic moment happen without any interference from him whatsoever.---In which Sylvain isn't the worst wingman but certainly the most oblivious one.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Original Male Character(s), Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 34
Kudos: 227





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Felix is 17, thus the underage tag (and he woefully does not turn 18 until Shit Gets Real).
> 
> I just wanted to write a fic where Sylvain gets jealous and doesn't understand why. I'm not the world's best at updating but I'll do my best!

"Hey, Felix, that guy over there is checking you out."

Halfway to a bite, Felix pauses and glances up to see the supposed culprit, following the line of Sylvain's thumb pointing toward a cluster of Black Eagles students. There's a moment of confusion then recognition before he returns to his meal, completely unbothered. "That would be because I beat him in the sword tournament earlier this moon. He probably wants a rematch, don't be foolish."

Sylvain quirks an eyebrow before staring at the mysterious admirer, chin in hand as he evaluated the legitimacy of Felix's reasoning. While it sounds plausible enough, certainly, as he recalls watching that tournament and congratulating Felix afterward, Sylvain recognizes the way this guy is eyeing his friend up. Having been on the receiving end of such a look plenty of times from plenty of people - and on the giving end just as many times - Sylvain doesn't miss the lick of the man's lips when Felix opens his mouth and takes in his food.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to disagree with you on that one." A wry smirk, and Sylvain can't help but tease his friend who has never dated anyone in his entire life and has shown no interest in changing that. This, however, could be his one opportunity to meddle in Felix's non-existent romantic life and isn't going to squander it. "Want me to ask if he's interested? You could stand to go out every now and then, let loose and all that. What do you say?"

"No." Felix wipes his mouth with a napkin, and a quick glance back toward the admirer tells Sylvain that he's following the movement carefully.

"Look, just give the guy a chance. You obviously have a lot in common," Sylvain rolls his eyes, but if anything's going to get Felix interested in anyone it's fighting ability, "you can share- I don't know. Sword swinging tips or whatever you swordsmen do."

"'Sword swinging tips,'" Felix repeats flatly and heaves a sigh (and, admittedly, Sylvain did  _ not _ mean for that to sound as suggestive as it did, though he highly doubts Felix caught the double meaning). He seems to consider -  _ actually _ , seriously consider his suggestion, and Sylvain wants to fall out of his chair in disbelief when he gets a hint of a smirk rather than a scowl. "All right- tell him if he bests me in combat, I'll let me take me out."

"Wh-"

"Goodbye, Sylvain. I'll see you in class."

"Wait, what, Felix-! Hold on!" Sylvain swivels around as Felix gathers his plates and utensils and drops them off with the dining hall staff, leaving Sylvain utterly confused as to the unexpected direction of that entire exchange. His brain struggles to catch up to what he'd just gotten himself into even as Felix exits the hall, heading toward the classrooms.

Which leaves Sylvain with his self-inflicted task of hooking this random guy up with his childhood best friend.

With a sigh, he supposes he's had to do worse. Considerably worse.

Plastering a well-practiced smile on his face, one which has charmed and repelled countless others, Sylvain grabs his lunch and moves across the dining hall, ignoring his target's confusion and his target's friends' confusion when he sits right next to him. If he remembers correctly, this guy is an upperclassman in the Black Eagle house, also a noble, no crest that he's heard of but strong enough, apparently, to make it to the finals. Objectively, the guy is good looking enough - strong jaw, brunet, some facial hair, and built. A quick read of him tells Sylvain he's harmless enough and, if not, Felix certainly already proved he's strong enough to kick this man's ass.

And hey, at least Sylvain knows this guy isn't after Felix's title and crest babies. Sylvain may be interested in getting Felix out in the dating scene, but he's not about to make Felix's life as bad as his own with women pressing up against him, looking at him and seeing gold and status rather than a person. No, he cares far too much about Felix for that, and a guy as strong and as interested in fighting as this one seems to be is a perfect first contender.

"Hey, Sylvain of House Gautier in Faerghus, right?" The guy does a standard bow, as best he can while seated. "My name's Edgar von Arundel. Ah- I know what you're thinking, but let's just say I'm good as disowned in all but paperwork."

To Sylvain's surprise, he laughs, already liking this guy and the apparent disdain he holds for nobility and its superficial standards for what makes or doesn't make a good heir. He's heard nothing of him despite his lineage, so he can only assume his lack of crest had him cast aside, like so many others before him. Only unlike *certain* people he's known in his life, this guy - Edgar - seems to take it all in stride.

"Yup, that's me!" He does his best to return the bow. "Nice to meet you, Edgar. But I'm not here for me - I saw you staring at my friend Felix over there."

Edgar flusters. "Ah-"

"Uh-uh! Let me finish." Sylvain shoots a glance to their other company, and they luckily get the hint, taking their plates and leaving with a few winks sent Edgar's way. "So, I see you're interested in my friend. He's a little shy so he told me to tell you he's interested too. And I've known the guy for years - he's  _ never _ been interested in  _ anyone _ before. So the fact that he's even open to it makes me think you must be a pretty remarkable guy."

Edgar laughs, his pale cheeks tinting further. "Ah, well, I'm not sure about that, especially after he beat me in the sword tournament. But uh- okay, that's good to know. So should I just-- ask him out to dinner? He doesn't seem like the type to like flowers."

"What? No, none of that." Sylvain snorts, the idea of Felix being wooed with flowers and chocolates bordering on hilarious in its impossibility and absurdity. As if what he's about to say next isn't equally as absurd, at least to normal people who aren't Felix Hugo Fraldarius. "He says you have to 'best him in combat'. So good luck with that, man! He'll be worth the fight in the end. I think. Hah!"

Sylvain claps Edgar on the shoulder before standing, a big, amused grin on his face as he gathers his plates, waving a free hand over his shoulder. This should be absolutely hilarious to watch from the sidelines. Felix has had suitors in the past, sure, but normally they're put off from his  _ lovely _ personality and so Sylvain doesn't often get the chance to witness Felix being properly courted.

And of course Felix's requirements for courting him would involve  _ literally fighting him _ . 

With a sigh - exasperated but fond - Sylvain drops off his plates and makes his way to the Blue Lions classroom, grinning when he sees Felix near the back. He sits next to him, cheek in hand, practically leering at Felix until he gets the other's attention.

Felix finally turns to him, looking as if he instantly regrets his decision in giving Sylvain even that much. " _ What _ ." 

"Guess who got you a date."

"Huh. So you actually told him?" Rather than looking angry, Felix looks -- intrigued? Which is the most positive emotion Sylvain has ever seen Felix display when it comes to dating. Sylvain can't believe this is real, and he briefly wonders if Felix hit his head during the tournament. "Well then, I look forward to his attempts at winning me over. If he can, of course."

"I can't believe you're seriously letting this happen. Are you sick? Possessed? Do we need to take you to Professor Manuela?"

"I'm  _ fine _ . He just impressed me with his technique. And as you said-" A smirk. "-maybe we can swap 'sword swinging tips.'"

Okay, now he's just making fun of Sylvain. "You could be nicer to the guy who scored you a date."

Felix scoffs, but still he doesn't look too annoyed despite the topic of conversation. "Thank you, Sylvain. You've done me a great favor. I'm interested to see where this goes."

And before Sylvain can be further astonished, the professor walks in and begins the lecture, cutting off the line of questioning on his tongue.

Luckily, neither Felix nor Sylvain are the most attentive students.

_ hey so I think the greenhouse + nice dinner in town would make a pretty good first date _

He slides the piece of paper over to Felix, who promptly ignores it. So he takes the paper and sets it in front of Felix, who ignores it once again.

Typical.

Taking the paper, he holds it out in front of Felix's face. He knows the professor well by now, and while they don't like interruptions, usually they don't care whether their students pay attention or even attend class so long as they got the work done. And for now, Sylvain has much more pressing matters than ambush tactics.

Felix snatches the paper out of Sylvain's hands, shooting him a glare (and receiving an innocent smile in return) before reading his scrawled handwriting. He scribbles something down and hands it back.

_ no. _

Well, that's probably to be expected. 

Sylvain turns his attention to the professor - well, not really, he's still thinking of ways he can help Felix on his very first date, but at least now it looks like he's actually paying attention. Thinking back to Edgar, he wonders what exactly about him makes him so much more interesting than the scores of men and women who have thrown themselves at Felix's feet over the years. Surely Felix has faced other talented swordsmen who are attractive and have secret techniques to give, too? Why  _ this _ guy? There's no way Felix decided to finally start listening to Sylvain's helpful advice that he should get out and meet some people because he's too closed off and grumpy and going out with girls is  _ fun _ .

He leans back in his chair, balancing his pencil on his upper lip. He hears Felix shifting next to him, and he knows the other is likely antsy to get out of the classroom and to the training grounds. 

Well, he can't figure out why Felix is suddenly down to start dating, but damn if Sylvain is going to just sit by and let this historic moment happen without any interference from him whatsoever.

\---

The tournaments are held on the weekends, though the special prize is awarded to the first winner only once, which Felix has already received the first weekend of this moon. Still, occasionally the professor will ask the students to enter these tournaments multiple times a day - they won't admit it's for the coin, but he always spots them in the marketplace afterwards.

Sylvain strolls into the training grounds first thing after breakfast, having not seen either Felix or Edgar in the dining hall. And unsurprisingly, he finds them sparring, already sweat-soaked as if they'd been at it for hours. They don't even turn to him when he enters, so engrossed in their fighting. A quick word with the Tournament Overseer lets him know that Felix and Edgar had already entered the tournament of their own accord, where Felix once again prevailed.

Sylvain watches them, completely unsurprised that Felix continues to fight even after winning an entire tournament  _ again _ . Although Felix had won not once but twice, these two are definitely similarly matched, even Sylvain can tell despite his lack of expertise in swords. He supposes Edgar didn't make it to the finals for nothing.

For a while, neither has the advantage or upper hand. Their swords meet and they part before they close the distance once more. Felix has always looked like a dancer on the battlefield, with his quick, sharp, and unique moves that all seem to flow together, but getting to watch him from the sidelines - a luxury Sylvain does not often have, as he is normally occupied with his own opponent - only further highlights his grace.

Sylvain idly compares their spar to a mating dance, and he can't help but snort at the accurate comparison.

He yawns, though, because as interesting as it is to watch the battle for Felix's hand-in-dating, they're literally at a stalemate, with no real ground gained by either. At this point, he assumes the victor will be the one who can hold out the longest. Sylvain hasn't known Edgar for very long, but he knows Felix well enough that he'll fight until he's dead. Edgar doesn't stand a chance in a battle of wills.

And as expected, one misstep from Edgar from fatigue has Felix exploiting it mercilessly, dodging left then sweeping his feet from under him, leaving Edgar with a wooden sword in his face.

"I yield," Edgar gasps out, flopping heavily against the ground to catch his breath.

Seems like Felix isn't getting swept off his feet ( _ hah) _ and whisked into the sunset just yet, Sylvain thinks in disappointment.

Felix smirks and holds out his hand, lifting Edgar to his feet and not letting go even after Edgar has his footing. He steps closer instead, head tilted back to look at him. "Better luck next time, Edgar. This was... a good way to pass the time."

Edgar laughs, not stepping away either, and there's a weird tension between them that's not aggressive in the usual way when it comes to Felix (Sylvain feels as if he's intruding on a very private moment, but like hell is he missing this). "Just a way to pass the time, am I? I swear to you, Felix, I'll become even stronger so you can eat those words. And take you on an evening out, of course, if you're still up to the task."

"Mm, I think I'm looking forward to that."

Sylvain isn't sure if he wants to laugh - because, wow, what a line - or collapse because who the  _ hell _ is this person and what did they literally do with Felix Hugo Fraldarius, if he's saying these kinds of things? Perhaps he'd been taking notes from Sylvain this entire time? They're  _ flirting _ , very obviously, uncaring that Sylvain and the Tournament Overseer are literally right there watching them make eyes at each other.

"I won't disappoint." With a smirk that even Sylvain finds charming, Edgar brushes his fingers along Felix's jaw before pulling away to put up his sword and leave the training grounds.

Felix lets a little laugh and moves to put up his own gear.

Shaking himself from his stupid, hands folded behind his head, Sylvain joins Felix, whistling low. "Wow. I don't think I even know who you are anymore. Are you  _ blushing? _ "

"Don't be a fool." Felix, ever the proper noble, lifts his shirt to wipe at his sweat. At least he's returned to his usual state, not the weird creature Sylvain witnessed just moments before. "I'm hungry- have you eaten yet?"

"I have, but I could join you. Not everyday  _ I _ get to be the one questioning your romantic pursuits." Sylvain laughs as he follows by Felix's side toward the dining hall, not really caring that the other is quite sweaty as it's a normal thing with Felix.

"Forget it, I'm going alone." Felix lengthens and quickens his stride, leaving Sylvain to scramble after him.

(Again.)

"Oh no you're not-! We have to discuss strategy! Come on, Felix-!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix doesn't know whether to regret this or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still *not* the world's best at updating, but I was particularly inspired and honestly just want to get to the smut asap (which isn't happening yet but oh it WILL).

Felix has no one to blame but himself, really, for being in this situation in the first place.

But anger comes more easily than vulnerability, and how ironic it is that the emotions he deems weak are the most difficult to feel, even for a coward like himself. It's much simpler to respond with irritation, with rudeness, without regard for anyone else's feelings lest they find out that he does truly, deeply, _ care _ (because what in the goddess' name is he supposed to do with that, when all he wants is to become stronger and stronger).

And he can't afford to show his hand, not here, not now, not ever, because what he has now is too precious to ruin further.

Because it's _ his _own fault that he keeps Sylvain at arms length, that he responds in scowls and barbed responses, that Sylvain has no idea that Felix wants nothing more than to wake up in his arms like they used to back in Fraldarius territory where it was cold and there was nowhere to go in the morning and they could stay in bed as they pleased.

But those days have long since shattered, and while Felix is sure Sylvain wouldn't mind waking up together like that again, Felix isn't willing to put himself through the emotional torture, knowing Sylvain is always looking for the next girl to warm his bed.

So instead, he allows Sylvain to play matchmaker.

It's a tactic he sees Sylvain use frequently, and he assumes Sylvain has more emotional intelligence than himself and knows how to navigate the battlefield that is the human heart: use someone else to completely distract from the issues at hand - and it _ seems _ to work. At least, Sylvain's been doing this since he was old enough to start dating. While Felix doesn't intend to hop from partner to partner in the same way (he just doesn't have the social aptitude, desire, or energy), he hopes that allowing Edgar into his life will eradicate all foolish hopes of _ maybe, just maybe. _

Felix isn't an idiot. He knows Sylvain sleeps with and dates women exclusively, never minding when men flirt with him and perhaps even using it to his advantage but never taking them to his bed or out on the town.

So, Felix moves on - or at least forces himself to.

Edgar is handsome, but Felix is most intrigued by his swordsmanship and his easy-going nature. He's certainly skilled, and Felix is interested in sparring with him and learning from him. Most importantly, he seems to take Felix's less than admirable personality in stride, seems to understand Felix doesn't often mean what he says - and Felix more than appreciates not having to backtrack and explain what he meant behind his sharp words (just the thought makes him fluster - why must feelings be so _ difficult _).

Felix is optimistic, and he so rarely is. If anything, at least he'll get a few good spars and techniques out of it.

(He thinks back to Sylvain's 'sword swinging tips' comment, and the absurdity of it makes him chuckle at the memory.)

"What're you laughing about over there?"

The comment catapults Felix back to the present: he and Edgar in the training grounds, a few spectators and the Tournament Overseer off to the side, meeting once again in the finals for the final sword competition for that moon. Over the past week since the last tournament and Felix's victory, he and Edgar have sparred countless times, and he'd spotted him training on his own as well. While Felix is confident, he knows to never underestimate an opponent, especially one who actually takes his training almost seriously as Felix.

"Just thinking about how I'll crush you. Again." He never underestimates, but banter never hurt anyone. Felix lowers into a starting stance, vaguely aware of the bright head of red in his periphery. He smirks, waiting for the Overseer to begin the match and enjoying the challenge and excitement reflected in Edgar's eyes. This is sure to be a riveting match - Edgar never disappoints.

"I'll make you regret those words." He, too, falls into stance, and the fire between their gazes blazes hotter.

As soon as the Overseer announces the start of the match, their swords clash so violently the echo of wood reverberates through the grounds. By this point, they know each other's fighting styles and quirks well. Felix rarely overanalyzes in combat, preferring to fight on instinct, and such is the case even more so now, when attempting to strategize may leave an opening for Edgar to exploit.

Where Felix excels in speed, however, Edgar makes up for in hardiness. It's difficult to make him lose his footing or make his hold on his sword waver. Felix knows how to deal with such opponents, especially having known similar beasts such as Dimitri and Sylvain all his life, but Edgar seems to have accounted for even that after weeks of sparring together.

What an incredibly thrilling opponent he is!

Felix can feel himself smiling as he feints left, dodges right- ducks and charges forward. He forgets the roar of the crowd around them, focused on getting in as many hits as he can, chipping away at Edgar's stamina.

And that's when Edgar's demeanor shifts. It's subtle, but his confidence colors into something less cocky and more _ certain _. Felix braces himself, wary and ready to counter whatever Edgar has planned for him.

Or at least, Felix _intends_ to counter, but he instead finds himself on his back, momentarily overcome with darkness before it clears to reveal the bright blue sky.

"And the winner is--! Edgar von Arundel of the Black Eagles!"

Felix can barely process how he got on the ground in the first place when he sees a hand reaching out for him. He grabs it without question, feeling slightly dizzy as he's pulled up to his feet. He sways, reaching out to steady himself against - he looks up - Edgar.

"Falling for me already?" Edgar grins and slides a warm hand against his lower back to keep him steady.

Awareness finally catching up with reality, Felix scoffs and shoves at Edgar's shoulder, hiding pink cheeks in crossed arms and raised eyebrow. "You fought well - I see you've learned a new combat art while I wasn't looking. I'm impressed. It's certainly powerful."

"It was difficult to perfect it - you seem to be around the training grounds an _ awful _ lot." Edgar laughs and steps closer once again (Felix ruffles at the gentle jab at his habits, but relaxes when he remembers that Edgar, too, is addicted to training). "So. I believe I have, in your words, 'bested you in combat.'"

"Indeed you have." Felix feels so fucking stupid playing coy like this, like he doesn't remember what losing to Edgar meant for him. But he can't help but feel swept along in Edgar's pace, and something about it makes it feel akin to banter before a spar, a bit of back and forth to make the fight that much more exciting. Luckily, the spectators have either already dispersed or resumed their training and pay no mind to either of them. Felix will not have to perish from embarrassment on this day before he can even get a chance to have his first date.

"So- tonight? I was thinking dinner in town, there's a lovely place that serves fine meats from rare beasts both locally and abroad. Then perhaps we can peruse the market. I hear a merchant from the west has brought interesting wares from Brigid, including some swords you may be interested in." Edgar smiles, and Felix can see the nervousness in it, though there was no need as he's already feeling quite charmed.

And as usual, Felix reacts to experiencing positive emotions with narrowed, suspicious eyes because that date sounds way too specifically tailored to his tastes. "You've been talking with Sylvain."

"He _ may _ have dropped a suggestion or two. What do you say?" Edgar's hands fidget, and he wonders if Sylvain also told him he isn't a big fan of excessive touching - not that Sylvain ever cared to honor that, but he supposes knowing each other their entire lives gives the redhead some privileges.

That smile is just so earnest and hopeful that Felix has to look away, arms crossed tighter across his chest, before muttering, "Fine."

(With a smile of his own, but he won't admit to that part.)

Edgar's hand touches light against his jaw, gently guiding Felix's gaze to his own. "I look forward to it, Felix, truly. I'll meet you at the front gate. I'll see you then."

With a brush of his thumb against Felix's jawline, he departs, the long length of his uniform seeming to sweep out behind him. Felix watches for a moment, dumbfounded, before he turns his sharp eye toward Sylvain whom he _ knows _ stuck around, the nosy dastard that he is.

"_ You. _"

"I confess to my crimes!" Sylvain says with hands up in mock surrender, looking way too amused and pleased with himself for Felix's taste. "But I swear, Felix, I did it all for you. There's no way I'm letting my best friend have an awful first date. Who knows if you'd ever give it another chance."

Felix's scowl softens, and he sighs. Dangerous warmth pools in his chest, touched that Sylvain continues to look out for him despite his own prickly nature. "I'm not thanking you, if praise is what you're seeking."

"Nope. I'm not done just yet - we have to take care of. All _ this _," Sylvain gestures up and down Felix's body, confusing him.

"What's that supposed to mean."

"I _ mean _ Edgar's a noble, and he seems to really like you. He's the kinda guy who's gonna dress nice, meanwhile you'll probably be in your uniform with dirt on your face and your hair a complete mess. You're gonna scare the guy away!" Sylvain shakes his head, reaching out to wipe away a smudge of dirt on Felix's face (Felix wishes to die that very instant, bristling at the gentle touch). "And that's where I come in. I've been around the block a few times-"

"Shocking."

"-I'm ignoring that. Anyway, I know a thing or two about dates. And this-" he gestures at Felix again, and Felix has to fight the urge to punch him, "-is not gonna work. We only have a few hours, but I think that should be enough time to make you presentable."

Felix suppresses heated cheeks when Sylvain drapes an arm around him and leads him toward the baths. He fights the urge to break off and head toward the dining hall or something _ not _ getting prettied up for a date, but as he actually is interested to see this work, he allows himself to be directed. He's sure Edgar wouldn't mind if Felix showed up in his uniform with dirt on his face, that's how they met after all, but he supposes he should show the other proper respect for their date.

He's bathed with Sylvain and Dimitri for most of his life, so while his eyes linger on the other's broad back and strong thighs for a moment, Felix focuses on getting himself clean. When he lets his hair down, bits of dirt from the battle falls free.

Maybe he did need this bath after all.

He washes methodically, allowing the echo of Sylvain's humming to calm him into a relaxed state. He doesn't recognize the tune so he assumes, like Annette's many masterful songs, it's made up on the spot. When he's done, he unceremoniously douses himself with a cold bucket of water, washing away the suds and grime. He dries himself, wrapping a towel around his waist as another shuffles through his hair.

But apparently getting clean isn't enough, because Sylvain takes them directly to the sauna afterward.

"Why."

"It'll help. Trust me."

Felix highly doubts it, but he admits the sauna does sound enticing. So they slide into sauna-provided clothing and find a corner to sit. Neither of them have the highest heat tolerance, being from Faerghus where even the warmer months are chilly, but as they're the only current occupants, they keep the temperature at a low, tolerable simmer.

He should have expected that this is merely a way for Sylvain to trap him into conversation.

"So...you really like this guy, huh?" 

Felix has his eyes shut, but he can hear the familiar shuffle of Sylvain folding his arms behind his head. "I don't mind his company. Or sparring with him."

"You like this guy enough to date him, even." The redhead's tone turns thoughtful, probing, immediately provoking Felix's defenses.

He chooses his words carefully. "He bested me in combat, and I keep my word."

"It's just kinda weird to me that you'd suddenly be open to dating. Is it just this guy or…?" Felix can sense Sylvain moving closer, can feel the bump of Sylvain's knee against his own, but he keeps his eyes firmly shut.

"Maybe I'm-" He starts, he stops - sighs. There are too many messy, tangled, sticky thoughts in his chest that he can't seem to form into words, so he leaves them there, kicks them under a rock to rot. There's no need to burden Sylvain with reasons that'll only make him look pitiful and pathetic. "Forget it."

"No, Felix, please tell me." A warm hand on his shoulder, and that knee knocks into his again. His voice is so soft, like it only gets when it's just the two of them and there's no one either of them have to impress. "We're friends. You can trust me. I won't make fun of you, promise."

Goddess help him. 

Felix takes a steadying breath, finally looking up at Sylvain (who just looks so open, so supportive, so intrigued - it doesn't help with his flagging courage)."I- maybe I just want to see what you like about it so much."

"Me?" Golden eyes widen in surprise, like he doesn't expect _ himself _ to be the reason behind all this - as if anyone but Sylvain can be the reason for any of this.

"Yes." Felix looks toward their knees, their pale skin reddened by the heat. Idly, he tucks his hair behind his ear. It falls forward again, only to be caught by Sylvain's fingers instead.

"Felix- I don't-- I don't think you're going to find the answer you're looking for." Sylvain laughs, tinged bitter from his own insecurities of which Felix is aware but never comprehended. "But- I do hope you'll find your own. For yourself, not because of me. Trust me, you don't wanna follow in my footsteps."

It's too tense, and he feels flayed open and exposed, like an open wound. He smacks Sylvain's hand away, getting up and gaining distance to take a breath. "Come on- we don't have that much time, remember?"

He leaves the sauna, and for a moment Sylvain does not join him. He's momentarily afraid he's offended Sylvain, but a glance back just shows him in deep thought before he smiles, getting up to stretch and join him.

When they reach their rooms, Sylvain follows Felix into his own and immediately begins to rummage through his clothes. While Felix is not one to care for looks or proper etiquette, he does at least properly store his non-uniform clothing in case he has to appear like the heir to the most important noble house in Faerghus and _ not _ have wrinkled, disheveled formal wear.

Which is either lucky or unlucky for him, because his formal uniform is exactly what Sylvain picks out.

"I have _ never _ seen you wear that on your dates. Why in the goddess' name do I have to?" Felix crosses his arms, sulking and displeased.

"Because I'm never serious about my dates!" Sylvain lays out the clothing on Felix's bed, then moves to his desk where he finds Felix's brush and various strips of leather for tying back his hair. "And maybe I told Edgar to wear his, too, so you have to wear this or you'll embarrass him by being underdressed."

Felix wants to maim him.

Sylvain sits on the bed, scooting back and patting the spot in front of him. "Come on, lemme do your hair."

"I regret everything about this already," Felix sighs, but acquiesces and sits in front of Sylvain. While this isn't a common occurrence these days, Sylvain and Ingrid used to play with his hair quite often when they were younger (Dimitri had been expressly forbidden after nearly tearing a chunk out accidentally). 

He tries not to show how much he likes it these days, but he's sure Sylvain remembers that he does. He gathers brushes through Felix's hair, tsking when it's just full of knots. "You really gotta take better care of your hair, Felix."

"What's the point," he grouches, eyes closing of their own accord.

"It's nice hair, would be a shame to let it go to waste." Sylvain gathers his hair on the sides, pulling them back and brushing them through. "Huh, I forgot your hair's got a wave to it."

"Don't remind me."

Sylvain chuckles, the disdain for Felix's father and their similarities in appearance clear in Felix's tone. It feels like Sylvain brushes his hair for an eternity, likely knowing Felix is putty in his hands, like one of the many campus cats that arch into his hands for pets. Felix can't say he's complaining, as after the bath and sauna and now this, it's the most relaxed he's been in quite some time. After a few more moments locked in a moment that feels far too much like a childhood memory, Sylvain takes a piece of leather and wraps it around the half-ponytail, keeping it loose but tidy. "All right, all right. There, you're done. Now get dressed, and then I gotta give you the do's and don'ts of dating or who _ knows _ what you'll do unsupervised!"

Felix is already exhausted, and the date hasn't even started yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Date and The Smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I nearly double the fic length with one chapter ope.
> 
> Also, I realize belatedly that the Sylvix is gonna take...a really long time to happen LOL. But who doesn't love a slow burn right?? In the meantime, I def am shipping my own dumb OC with Felix. I didn't even intend for him to have an actual personality, he was supposed to be a one-night stand kinda thing.
> 
> Next chapter: Sylvain Has Many Thoughts About This Whole Thing.

Felix doesn't know what to expect, but a good time isn't one of them.

It turns out, though, that Edgar is full of surprises.

He's dressed as Sylvain described: pressed formal wear, shoes polished, and hair coiffed perfectly to the side, revealing his forehead in an alarmingly handsome way. He even has his evening gloves on, and Felix feels some kind of way that this guy he only knows through fighting would go through so much effort for  _ him _ , Felix Huge Fraldarius, widely known to be uncourtable and rude.

"Felix!" Edgar greets, looking him over and expression morphing as if he'd just seen something wondrous with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. "W-wow. You, um. You certainly look amazing."

Felix crosses his arms over his chest, not really knowing how to respond to that. Sure, he's had plenty of interested men and women in the past, but none ever deigned to get near him. If they hadn't been put off by his reputation, then his scowl made sure they quickly lost interest. So he's not well-versed in receiving compliments about his looks, and thus he instinctually falls back on scowling.

Edgar, unafraid, steps closer, just close enough that Felix can feel the heat of him in the slight chill of the evening. Seemingly entranced, Edgar pushes back the locks of hair that were too short to be tied back, tucking them behind Felix's ear. His hair immediately falls forward again, causing a soft laugh. "You're a sight to behold on and off the battlefield it seems."

"Quit your flattery," Felix grumbles, not knowing if he should be irritated with the praise or embarrassed. Is this how Sylvain's many girls feel? Somehow Edgar seems… less cloyingly fake with his words than Sylvain.

"I have no need for flattery when the truth is so clear before me." With a smooth smile, Edgar holds out his hand, which Felix stares at and returns with a blank look. He may have been open to this date, but he is in no way a lovestruck maiden to be displayed or escorted around. Laughing, Edgar just gestures forward instead as they start their journey to town. "Sylvain did mention you may not be… receptive to the romantic gestures usually accorded in a date."

Why is he not surprised. " _ Sylvain _ can afford to be quiet every now and then." 

"Well, I for one am glad that he didn't - I welcome any advice to assist in making this evening as memorable as possible for you." Warm lilac eyes glow in sincerity, and Felix has to look away as it starts to make  _ him _ feel vulnerable, and he focuses on the passing dirt road and various plants that lead from the monastery down toward the town. "It seems he knows you quite well. I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with the Kingdom of Faerghus, are your territories quite close?"

Felix glances back before settling his eyes on the sky instead, where he can focus on the clouds burned orange and pink from the setting sun. "We grew up together, yes. But pay no mind to his incessant prattling - you've been doing just fine  _ before _ his meddling."

Felix does not have to look to sense Edgar's pleased smile, the other's hum and laugh are enough to let him know that was the right thing to say.

The rest of the journey to town is accompanied with talk of their earlier fight, a topic of conversation Felix much prefers. He loses track of time, even, when Edgar suddenly stops and announces their arrival at the restaurant. Felix blinks, having been caught up in their discussion of different blades and which they preferred, before following after Edgar. He's impatient to continue their discussion, but Edgar being a noble means he'd chosen a higher-end establishment, and he has to wait for the formalities of being led to their table, silverware placed, water glass filled, menus given, and specials recommended.

One look at the menu is all Felix needs - he spots a rare beast meat delicacy that he's looking forward to trying.

The excitement must show on his face because Edgar grins. "You like this place already, I see?"

Felix curses Sylvain for spilling all his secrets. He wonders vaguely if this whole outing was suggested by Sylvain - would this have been the kind of date Sylvain would take him on? Begrudgingly, he bites out, "Yes… you don't see this particular cut of meat just anywhere. I'm surprised they serve it here."

"I'm delighted it could impress." Gloved hands fold on the table, and the grin turns absolutely self-satisfied.

The server returns, a welcome distraction, to take their order and provide appetizers as they wait for their main meal.

"As I was saying," Felix continues the thread of their earlier, more interesting (in his opinion) conversation, "I don't dislike iron swords, despite their quality. They're rather light and make for quick, accurate strikes. Perhaps not as ornate as a silver sword, but you and I both know that expense does not necessarily equate to a good weapon."

Edgar leans forward, attentive. "Oh, yes, certainly. But as it stands, I don't have half your speed, I'm afraid, so a light weapon unfortunately grants me little advantage. I quite prefer the strength of a steel or silver sword."

"Then perhaps you would be interested in joining me during my morning training? I often run through drills to work on my speed and dexterity. While it isn't everything, I've seen even the hardiest of warriors fall to someone who could simply out-speed them. You would do well to work on improving where you lack." Felix takes a piece of the provided bread - a sort of miniature meat pie, he thinks - and bites into it.

Oh, it is  _ delicious _ . He closes his eyes, humming as he takes in the flavor. When he opens them, Edgar's looking right at him, smile fond but tinted with a kind of desire that he sees frequently when Sylvain finds a woman particularly beautiful.

It makes Felix feel  _ something _ , like a hole collapsing in his chest, uncertain and as if he's freefalling. He's not sure what it  _ is, _ only that it's not necessarily a bad feeling.

"Ah- is that your way of asking me on another date?"

Felix nearly chokes on his next bite. He hadn't even considered that as a possibility - honestly, he'd just assumed this would be their only date, that Edgar would ultimately find him uninteresting or too rude to want to continue. Or that he would be like many of Sylvain's dates, where it would be a date and night together before he moved on to the next person. He clears his throat, sips his water, stares down at the napkin in his lap. "I wouldn't be opposed if you'd like it to be one."

Edgar's gloved hand tips his chin up, and Felix stubbornly darts his gaze away from sincere lilac. "I would like it be one, yes."

"...I often rise before dawn, you know."

"Oh, I'm aware. Who do you think tried to avoid you on the training grounds to learn my new combat art?" A deep chuckle, and Edgar sits back in his chair again.

Blessedly, their meal arrives, saving Felix from this line of conversation as they tucked into their respective plates. At the first bite, Felix once again is overcome with bliss. The meat is tender, flavorful, and falls apart easily. He can't help but hum in appreciation.

They finish up quietly, Felix content as can be with a full stomach of the most delicious meat he's had in a while. He  _ still _ does not take Edgar's offered arm, much to the other's amusement, but he walks close enough that their sleeves brush against each other.

Despite the darkening sky, the marketplace is still bustling with vendors luring in customers and interested buyers perusing the wares. Edgar places his hand on Felix's shoulder, gently leading him toward the back of the marketplace where the western merchant normally set up shop. They pass by the professor who raises an eyebrow but waves all the same (Felix Very Much Ignores the smirk on their face).

"Hello gentlemen, what can I do for you today?" the merchant greets as they arrive, hands clapped together to accompany his big smile.

Before Edgar can respond, Felix cuts in. "I heard you have interesting weaponry from Brigid. I'd like to see if it's worth my coin."

"Oho! I respect a man who knows what he wants. One moment, please." Scurrying to rifle through his merchandise, the merchant pulls out several scabbards and sets them on the table before Felix.

Just looking at the beautifully ornate scabbards, Felix could tell these swords are indeed of fine quality. Without asking, he takes one in hand and unsheathes it. The sound of metal sings, and Felix tests its weight with a few quick movements (the merchant steps back a little, a bit alarmed by the sudden waving about of a sharp weapon). Seemingly satisfied, Felix brings the sword closer to inspect the blade and its hilt. Lifting the other sword, he can already tell that it's much heavier and sets it back down.

"I'll take it," he says as he sheathes the weapon and digs out his coin purse. There's a brightness in his eyes that's rarely seen outside the battlefield, and when the exchange is made, Felix quickly clips it to his belt, keeping a hand on the hilt. He turns to Edgar, satisfied smile turning into a challenging one. "What say we test out this blade at the training grounds?"

"I should have known a date with you with begin and end on the training grounds," Edgar chuckles, "but who am I to turn down a challenge from the  _ ex- _ champion of the sword tournament?"

"You beat me  _ once _ ."

"And you've a new blade you haven't yet broken in - I'd say there's a good chance I can win again."

"We'll have to see then, won't we?" 

Blood hums through Felix's veins in excitement as they hurry towards the training grounds. The training grounds are as empty as always at this time of day, many of the students in the dining halls or in their rooms to complete the day's assignments. There are a few torches still lit, casting just enough light for their little spar to be not as outrageously dangerous. 

Felix unsheathes his new blade, taking a moment to admire how the metal and the details on the ornate guard catch in the torchlight. Edgar grabs a standard silver blade from the racks, and they fall into position just as they did hours before.

They start in sync, as if prompted by a silent bell. Felix blitzes in toward Edgar who meets his blade with a poignant echo of metal on metal. It's as if they're continuing their early battle without pause, a perfectly orchestrated dance that told a story neither of them knew. They only understood the rise and fall of their breaths, the fire in each others' eyes, and the sweat on their skin. Instinct and reflex and years of training dictates their movements like a puppeteer, and as they reach the apex of their performance, Felix pulls back and darts quickly behind Edgar who stumbles forward but wastes no time in catching himself and spinning on his feet. But by then, Felix already has the dulled edge of his blade up against Edgar's neck, smirk sharp as he drinks in the adrenaline.

"My win."

For a moment, their breathing is the only sound between them, heat the only thing that separated them. At some point, Felix's hair had fallen loose, as it was not tied for  _ fighting _ in mind.

Felix doesn't quite know what to say. The precarious tension between them feels fragile yet precious, and despite the intensity of the other's gaze, Felix cannot look away. He wonders, briefly, if Edgar is going to kiss him, like Sylvain does with all his dates. He wonders if he'd like for Edgar to kiss him.

He doesn't get to wonder for much longer, because Edgar leans in and gently presses a kiss to his lips, soft as if he's unsure if it'll be accepted.

Felix's breath catches, and he thinks how Sylvain takes his dates back to his room, has done as such with countless women.

Without any further thought, Felix grasps Edgar's hair and pulls him back down for a more certain kiss. When they pull apart, gasping for breath even now, he asks in the way only Felix can- "Take me to your bed."

\---

Felix doesn't know what he's doing, exactly, so he does as he always does: act purely on instinct.

The walk to Edgar's room had given them both time to cool off- or so he thought, because as soon as the door closes behind him Edgar's pressed against him, hands on his waist, lips pressing hot against his own as he backs Felix against the door. Felix sees the appeal in kissing - the building passion coming to fruition, being devoured and devouring, the heat and the anticipation and the quiet challenge in the touch of Edgar's gloved hands against his heated skin as the other rucks up his top.

Felix knocks his head back against the door, overwhelmed and desperate to calm his rapid heartbeat. But he's given no reprieve when Edgar immediately kisses down his neck, hands swiftly unbuttoning his clothing, sliding his top over his shoulders. Felix lets it slip to the ground, unable to help the groan from his lips when Edgar presses his still-clothed chest to his own bare one.

Blindly, Felix grasps around for Edgar's buttons as well. As much as he enjoys the friction of his nipples against stiff fabric, he does  _ not _ enjoy the particular vulnerability of being the only one unclothed. Nimble fingers make quick work of it, and demanding hands push them off Edgar's shoulders. Keeping their formalwear pristine is suddenly the last thing on his mind.

And _ oh _ is it worth it, skin against skin, warm and scarred and alive.

Edgar sweeps him into a kiss once more, one hand in his hair and the other at his waist, keeping their bodies pressed tightly together.

Felix is  _ so _ very glad that Edgar seems to know what to do, because he certainly does not, though he's definitely learning. The tug of his hair feels better than it should, and the slide of Edgar's fingers in his hair makes him shiver. He's light-headed, lost in pure  _ heat _ , and all they've done is kiss. So maybe Sylvain has a pretty good reason for dallying about as he does.

Gloved hands move to his hips and pull and push him toward the bed. There's a brief second where Felix notices the bright red colors of the room before he's pushed on his back, and all he sees is the expanse of the ceiling and Edgar towering over him, looking at him with such want that Felix has to avert his gaze once more.

"No, please, let me see you-" Fingertips that seem to sear into his skin even through the glove tilts his head back so that all Felix sees is  _ lilac _ . That touch moves into his hair, and his eyes flutter shut. "You look  _ beautiful _ under me… I've longed for this since I saw you. How lucky I am to have you in my bed."

And those hands wander down, smoothing over every scar, every dip of his body. His skin tingles in the wake of Edgar's hands moving ever downward, down over his nipples (he  _ jolts _ because he does  _ not _ expect that to feel good), down to his waist before settling on his hips. Felix doesn't know what to do with the other's sweet words, so he throws an arm over his eyes, breath unsteady despite having done nothing but lie on his back. "I have no need for your flattery."

"As I've said," Edgar leans down to press another kiss against the jut of Felix's hip, dangerously close to his cock, "I have no need for flattery when the truth is here before me."

Words are difficult normally, but even more so when all he can think about is that mouth on his skin, the way it spreads pleasure throughout his entire body, toes curling and cock hardening.

"May I, Felix?"

Felix peeks from under his arm to see Edgar's hands at his waistband. And this is when he realizes this is actually happening, that he's going to have sex with someone, that he might actually continue to date this guy, that they might do more of this in the future - and he finds that he likes that idea.

So he nods, then hides back under his arm.

He feels Edgar unbutton his trousers, feels him pull everything down his legs so that he's bare before burning lilac eyes. He doesn't dare look, cheeks flushed red, but he can hear the way Edgar sighs in wonder, feels the way soft gloved hands squeezes at his thighs. The sensation has no right to feel that good, but every time he feels sparks when soft cotton skims over him.

"Utterly mesmerizing…"

"You have the same damn parts," Felix mutters in embarrassment, his hand gripping the sheets from the tension, from not knowing what's going to happen next, from not knowing how to react to something feeling so  _ good _ .

"Ah, but yours are much more pleasing to the eye than my own. And more fun. For example, I can do this-"

Felix curses when Edgar wraps those  _ goddess-forsaken gloved _ fingers around his cock and strokes him slowly.

" _ Lovely _ . Yes, please let me hear you."

The sensation is incredibly new - Felix has certainly touched himself before, usually to the idea of Sylvain fucking into him slow and steady, voice deep and low in his ear, but it's something different altogether when someone  _ else _ is doing it - and it catches him off guard, startling a loud moan from him.

And it's even more surprising - and he won't admit that he  _ whimpers _ \- when Edgar's mouth swallows him down, hot and so  _ wet _ . His hand shoots down to grip at Edgar's hair, and he's not sure if he wants to chase him off or pull him further onto him. 

Edgar hums around him, seemingly pleased and sounding somehow  _ smug _ despite having a mouth full of dick. His hands take Felix's thighs and pulls them over his shoulders. It allows Edgar to swallow him further, and pulls another strained groan from Felix.

"Wait-" Felix tugs at Edgar, thighs flexing on either side of his face as the pleasure becomes unbearable. "Stop, I can't- I'm going to-"

"Mm, I would like to taste you, though," Edgar acquiesces and grins, tapping the sides of Felix's trembling thighs as he licks his reddened lips. "Did you have something else in mind?"

"I'd like you to fuck me."

Lilac eyes widen in surprise. "Already? I mean, I'd love to, of course, but please don't feel pressured to-"

Felix moves his legs from Edgar's shoulders, reaches down to tug him back up toward him, gaze determined and  _ wanting _ . "Fuck. Me."

Edgar huffs in laughter, fond as he traces along the edge of Felix's jaw. "You will be the death of me. Luckily, I was…  _ hoping _ for this."

A bit shyly, Edgar reaches into his pockets and pulls out a small glass vial.

Felix smirks, still flushed and feeling over his head but for at least this moment feeling quite smug. "Eager, were you?"

"Just as eager as you, it seems." Edgar bites at the tips of his gloves, finally pulling them away and tossing them aside. Uncorking the bottle, Edgar slicks his fingers and guides them to Felix's hole. He circles the rim, watching Felix's face carefully. "Have you done this before?"

"Only to myself."

Edgar pauses. "I'll be your first then? I- Felix, I'm honored to have your trust."

"You can thank me by getting  _ on with it _ ," Felix bites out, legs wrapping around Edgar impatiently.

"Then you can assist by relaxing. I don't want to hurt you, Felix."

Felix snorts at the notion that he can't handle a bit of pain. "You have no problem hurting me when we spar, why is this any different?"

"It's  _ very _ different, trust me." Edgar's voice softens, a touch serious, and Felix feels he has no choice but to trust him.

Huffing, Felix makes an attempt to relax, but relaxing is not something he's very good at, always tense and closed off. To open himself up like this is completely against anything he's ever done, so he tries to think of relaxing with the professor in the sauna, the peaceful view of the lake at dawn, the-

" _ Ah _ -" Felix clutches at the sheets when Edgar slides a finger in him. It doesn't feel  _ too _ different from what he does with himself, but the fact that it's someone  _ else's _ finger - longer and thicker - doesn't escape his body's notice. He squirms when another finger slips in, when Edgar grasps his dick. He falls further into the sensations crawling up his body, fully immersing himself in just  _ feeling _ , and he loses track of time and soon Edgar is slicking his own dick and pressing against him.

"You ready?"

" _ Yes _ !" Felix hisses, glaring up at him impatiently from under his arm. 

Edgar finally,  _ finally  _ pushes in, slow until Felix's legs, still folded around him, demandingly pulls him forward with a loud groan from them both. Edgar's hips stutter to a stop, resting forehead against Felix's shoulder, startled by the sudden heat and warmth and pressure of Felix enveloping him. Felix can't disagree that it's overwhelming, the sudden fullness, Edgar's body bent over him,  _ hard _ inside him - despite how desperately and impatiently he wants to get properly fucked, he's thankful for the opportunity to adjust.

(He can't  _ help _ but think of Sylvain, think of him thick and deep inside him, smile strained because he feels so good inside of Felix, eyes looking only at Felix, only at him. And it isn't fair - Felix knows that much - because it's Edgar who's fucking him, not Sylvain. And it will never  _ be _ Sylvain, and Felix had thought he'd accepted this by now, that he should move on because Sylvain doesn't fuck men.

But it's so hard to move on from a man he's loved before he even understood there was a word for it.)

Edgar fucks him slow at first, but an irritated bite from Felix encourages him to snap his hips faster. He pushes Felix's arm away from his face, clasping their hands together in a way that's way too intimate for Felix to even process, and just looks down at Felix with eyes that could only be described as  _ awed. _ Felix doesn't think he's deserving of it, flusters and focuses his gaze downward instead where Edgar disappears into him over and over.

Something about seeing and  _ feeling _ him enter him sends heat through him and he wrenches an arm free to palm at his own dick, chasing euphoric release. And he can feel the other's hungry gaze on his skin, watching as he touches himself, watching, too, how well he takes Edgar's cock.

Felix appreciates that Edgar is, mostly, a silent lover. He pulls Edgar down closer with his free hand, burying his face in his neck to dampen the sound of his  _ ahs _ and  _ ohs _ . But being able to hear them more clearly must spur Edgar on as he spreads Felix's thighs further, moving harder and faster. At one point the bedframe slams against the wall, but neither pay it any mind as they finally come, Felix biting his lip as he does, Edgar groaning low into Felix's neck, punctuating pale skin with bites and kisses.

They collapse onto the bed, well-fucked and exhausted. Felix finds that he doesn't mind the weight, finds it almost comforting as he closes his eyes and enjoys the way his body slowly unravels. It's silent, now, save for their uneven breaths and the sound of their heartbeats that Felix swears he can hear.

Edgar is the first to recover, getting up on his elbows and brushing Felix's sweat-slicked hair from his face, smile as reverent as before. "Stay here tonight?"

Felix looks toward that blank ceiling, feeling flattered but uncertain. Staying the night seems… much more emotionally intimate than he thinks he can handle. He certainly enjoys Edgar's company, and he fucks as good as he fights, but he squirms at the thought of sleeping in his arms and waking up next to him. Even just Edgar's eyes on him can be too much.

Felix gently pushes Edgar back, sitting up. He runs his hand through his hair, hating the way it sticks to his neck and back. "Sorry… not tonight."

Edgar smiles, so infuriatingly understanding. "Of course."

Felix chances a look, flustered. He takes a deep breath, steadies himself. "But- maybe next time?"

And the look Edgar gives him makes his heart do something strange, and he thinks, yes, maybe this guy can help him move forward.

"Next time, then."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain feels, for the first time in his life, responsible for something. And he's not sure he likes it.

Sylvain thinks he must be hallucinating. There is literally no other explanation to seeing Felix like this: walking closely with someone not from his childhood and actively participating in conversation. Well, he supposes it's not  _ too _ far-fetched considering that they are, of course, talking about swords - but the sight is still a marvel to behold regardless because even other sword enthusiasts in Garreg Mach tend to be equally as interested as Felix in fighting over talking.

He's been following behind the couple, bright hair covered by the Garreg Mach-issued hat that no one but Dorothea wears. Seeing Felix acting...completely normal has him feeling kind of exasperated that Felix is so different with him and their other lifelong friends. Or maybe it's a sign that Felix really likes this guy?

Which, fair. The guy is certainly attractive and smooth - not as much as himself, Sylvain Jose Gautier, but then again the guy probably has it easy having no inheritance and no Crest to weigh him down with unwanted expectations. From his position behind the couple, he can see that Edgar's shoulders are broad and that he's a bit shorter than himself. He also has a slim waist that leads into an objectively firm ass.

Goddess, it has to be the swordsmanship that drew Felix in, because there is no way Felix can like a guy so similar to Sylvain and treat him normally while Sylvain - lifelong friend, mind you! - gets told to leave him alone.

All he gets from Felix is a snort and him walking away.

He follows at a decent distance, far enough that they won't notice but close enough to hear a couple snippets of conversation. He can  _ definitely _ hear when Felix is talking about him, and wow how ungrateful, as if Sylvain isn't the reason why this date is happening in the first place!

When they enter the restaurant, Sylvain makes sure to request (with a wink and a smile to the host) a table that's out of their line of sight. He can see them, though, since he doesn't have a cute date to look at the whole time, and he has  _ never _ seen Felix look as delighted as he does when he bites into his appetizer.

Sylvain wishes he could capture this moment somehow, but he doesn't think Felix will hold his expression for hours while he arranges for a painter to capture the moment.

He feels very much like a mother whose first child has gone off on their first date. He's so  _ proud _ of Felix! So happy for him! So pleased to see that Edgar is treating his childhood friend well, because despite his own good-nature and laid-back personality, he refuses to allow Felix's first relationship to end in hurt. Because Felix takes hurt much more personally, internalizes it and lets it fester until it rots his view of any positive relationship he's ever had and ever will have. That's how they lost the young Felix he knew before the Tragedy of Duscar, when he was bright-eyed and loved so very easily.

Felix takes hurt and vows to never hurt again by avoiding relationships so that he can never become attached. Sylvain does the opposite - he hurts others before they can hurt him.

And seeing Felix like this, sparkle back in his eye as he leans forward and talks to Edgar about swords (presumably, Sylvain can't actually hear them that well but he has a pretty good guess), Sylvain wants to protect this Felix who's opening himself up again.

"-asking me on another date?"

Sylvain thinks he's about to have a heart attack. It takes every drop of willpower in his entire body to suppress the urge to whip around and look at their table in disbelief, to verify that Felix Hugo Fraldarius is indeed interested enough in this guy to acquiesce to another date - and to top it all off, to be the one  _ asking _ for it, in his own roundabout Felix way?

A proud tear pricks at his eye. He glances toward their table out of curiosity, and once again has to restrain himself from doing something completely inappropriate.

Edgar is tipping Felix's chin up and Felix is  _ allowing him _ .

This is something worthy of celebration: Felix allowing  _ moves _ to be put on him without threatening anyone is nothing short of the work of the goddess herself.

When they leave, Sylvain gets a strange look for not getting much of a meal, but he's here on a  _ mission _ , one that cannot be interrupted for such paltry reasons such as eating.

The marketplace is perfect for blending in, allowing him to sneak even closer to the couple without being spotted. Sylvain's nearly bored to tears when Felix starts being very Felix about the swords - he knew Felix would be interested in the rare weaponry, but he wasn't prepared for how utterly dull and undatelike it would be.

And then he hears "training grounds" and sees the loving couple headed there.

Sylvain wishes he could say that he's surprised, that he didn't expect their date to end at the training grounds, but he kind of absolutely expected it to happen, especially after Felix saw the blade. Of course he'd want to see them in action  _ immediately _ , considering his date is also one of his sparring partners.

He slips around to a different route to the training grounds, practically sprinting so he can get there and find a hidden seat before they arrive. He ignores when Professor Manuela scolds him to stop running around campus and to be careful or he'll hurt himself. He doesn't ignore when Ingrid scolds him for the same, and slows his gait before running once more when she scoffed and continued on to wherever she was headed. He thinks he makes it to the training grounds in time, heartbeat racing as he tries to slow his breath while slipping in through the doors. There's a darkened corner where the torchlight doesn't quite reach, and he slips into the shadows. Luckily, it gives him a pretty good vantage point of the center of the grounds.

Time is always so miserably slow while waiting, and it proves true even now. Sylvain's breathing finally slows, and now he can't help but fidget in boredom as he waits for the couple to arrive. Of course Felix chooses  _ now _ to take his sweet time getting to the training grounds, when normally he's practically itching to come here.

Just when Sylvain is about to peek out from his spot, the doors swing open and he scrambles as quietly as he can to press himself against the wall. He doubts they'll be able to see him, but the action makes him feel better about his attempt at subterfuge.

Sylvain wants to groan at Felix's incompetence in romance when they don't even talk - no playful pre-fight banter or anything! They just start  _ fighting _ like the sword-obsessed weirdos they are, so focused in their fight that they don't even comment during it, which is a wasted opportunity in Sylvain's opinion because when else are they going to see each other sweating and grunting?

At least they put up an interesting fight. Watching them has always been interesting, regardless of Sylvain's preference to do something more fun. He watches Felix play a perfect match, combatting Edgar's reliance on his strength. Sylvain would be impressed if he wasn't completely aware of how  _ close _ those two got. They're so close, from Sylvain's vantage point it almost looks as if they're kissing. They don't  _ move _ though, so Sylvain knows that they're not, but the tension is thick and he's holding his breath, wondering,  _ wondering- _

_ - _ and then Edgar moves ever so slightly forward, and Sylvain wants to cheer. Another moment passes, and Sylvain fears that Edgar might soon become disemboweled when instead Felix pulls the other closer by his hair and says something Sylvain can't quite hear. And before Sylvain can feel pride that Felix  _ didn't _ kill anyone tonight, the two seem to just dart out of the grounds.

First Sylvain thinks Felix must have said something offensive, with the way Edgar pulls the door open and the way they quickly shuffle out. But after waiting a few moments and slipping out himself to follow them in the cover of night, the two don't seem  _ angry _ with each other just- well, he can't put his hands on it, but he's never really seen Felix move that way, and it's not often that Sylvain can't read Felix at a glance from his posture.

It's when they stop at one of the lower floor rooms, Edgar fumbling with a key as Felix presses himself up on his feet to kiss him, low hums of pleasure cutting through the silence of the evening, that Sylvain understands what's happening now.

And he feels something heavy drop from his chest to his stomach. He thinks it might be dread or guilt, but as the two disappear behind Edgar's door, the finality of the wood shutting behind them, he knows for certain that he wants to throw up.

It isn't disgust, really. As Sylvain heads back to his own room to lie in his own bed and think about his own choices in life, Sylvain knows for sure it isn't disgust. He can see clearly Felix from earlier in his mind, as if carved into the wood of the ceiling, in his sauna wear with hair draping down and expression a kind of vulnerable he's never seen. He hears clearly the way Felix says, voice clear but soft, " _ maybe I just want to see what you like about it so much. _ "

It haunts him, makes his stomach twist with regret.

He hopes and hopes and  _ prays _ that Felix didn't agree to sleep with Edgar because he thinks it's what he should do in a date. He knows Felix has little experience with romance and relationships, and out of Felix's close friends, Sylvain knows he's the  _ only _ one to regularly date and therefore the only frame of reference that Felix would have.

Go on a date then bring them back to his room, isn't that what he's always done and brags the morning after? Talks about how he got her into his bed with a few sweet words, putty in his hands when he tells her things she wants to hear, then dusted his hands of her afterward?

Sylvain groans into his pillow, praying to the goddess that Felix won't follow in his footsteps.

Guilt continues to trickle down his throat, choking him on it as he thinks back to how Edgar said he was basically disowned for being crestless. He wonders if Edgar is after Felix's noble title, can't help but to curse himself for setting Felix up for failure. He can't allow this to happen to Felix, to allow Felix to be  _ used _ . Of course he knows Felix gets his own number of admirers and women who hope to wed into one of the most important noble families in Faerghus, but Felix has never,  _ never _ reciprocated interest.

But now-

Sylvain takes a deep breath, getting up and settling at his desk. He shakes his head, clearing it of the poisonous thoughts that seek to drag him to insanity.

All Sylvain can do at this point is be there for Felix should this come tumbling down around him.

It's about an hour later when he hears footsteps from down the hallway, moving closer and ever closer until it stops seemingly a few doors down. It's not  _ too _ late into the night, but knowing where Felix has been for the past hour, Sylvain feels his chest constrict once more.

But Felix's door opens and shuts, not too loud and not too quiet, completely unassuming.

Sylvain can't sleep that night.

\---

The next morning, Felix is so normal it's suspicious. He grabs his food, sits next to Sylvain, and grunts out a greeting when prompted.

But  _ Sylvain Jose Gautier _ is watching, and nothing gets by him.

_ Especially _ not the hickey on his neck.

"So," Sylvain says, trying to be casual, which promptly makes Ingrid and Dimitri look up as well as they know the difference between 'Sylvain actually being casual' and 'Sylvain acting casual because of Something,' "you came back pretty late last night, Felix."

"Ah- yes, you did," Dimitri tilts his head curiously. "Please don't tell me you were out training that late."

"What I do is none of your concern, boar," Felix continues eating his meal as if he has nothing to hide, and maybe he doesn't but Sylvain needs to  _ make sure _ . But of course Felix doesn't elaborate. Perhaps bringing this up around Dimitri wasn't the best idea, considering Felix's less-than-stellar opinion of him.

"You _ have _ been walking a bit funny this morning, you have to take care to not overwork yourself." Ingrid frowns in concern, her tone suggesting that she and Felix have had this discussion one too many times.

But her statement makes Sylvain freeze, especially when Felix seems to fluster.

" _ I'll keep that in mind, _ " Felix hisses through gritted teeth as he stabs into his food and bites into it with more aggression than warranted. Which in turn completely confuses Dimitri and Ingrid, both of them unaware of Felix's  _ activities _ from last night.

"Good…" Ingrid raises an eyebrow at both Dimitri and Sylvain. Dimitri responds with a shrug, while Sylvain can only sigh.

"I'm going. I'll see you in class." Abruptly, Felix leaves, and Sylvain notices now the way he subtly limps across the dining hall, only to be stopped by Edgar who smiles so radiantly at him, somehow sweet-talking Felix into sitting next to him.

"Did he just-" Ingrid blinks, "-wow, they certainly have been together a lot recently, haven't they?"

Dimitri brings a hand to his chin in thought. "Indeed. But Felix has always been quite intrigued by those who know how to wield a sword. After seeing their match yesterday, I can see why Felix might be drawn to him."

Sylvain isn't sure if Felix dating this guy is a secret or not, so he stays silent, attention on Felix and Edgar. Well, if Felix is still talking to the guy, then clearly he's not playing the same game as Sylvain. Which is good, and he's relieved when he sees Felix's demeanor relax. He's not quite smiling, of course, but Sylvain has known him long enough to know that the lack of aggression is pretty much a smile.

He returns to his own meal, grinning at his lifelong friends and steering the conversation elsewhere as he tucks his own nebulous thoughts about Felix's developing, budding love life for later analysis.

Ingrid gives him a  _ look _ and Dimitri tilts his head at the 'Sylvain Is Trying To Distract Us From Something He Doesn't Want To Talk About' tactic (a tactic that he fervently denies is an actual thing he does), but they follow along without much complaint, as if they, too, had wanted to talk about the new crop of flowers in the greenhouse that season.

Neither of them comment on how Sylvain can't stop shaking his leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait everyone! December was extremely busy for me at work, and I wanted to get this up before I took another month and a half hiatus to work on cosplay for Katsucon (anyone going?).
> 
> Thank you everyone for all your supportive comments!! I'm really glad that everyone likes Edgar - he wasn't actually supposed to have this big of a role, so I didn't put much thought into his background or personality or name or appearance LOL. I originally intended for him to be a one-night stand, but Felix was being all happy and shy and I couldn't take that from him. So here I am scrambling to make him interesting and I'm glad you all seem to like him!
> 
> Since it'll be a while, here's what's happening next chapter to sate your curiosity: Felix and Edgar start to make their relationship known around the monastery. Ingrid and Dimitri are surprised but supportive, honestly just kind of happy that Felix is finally happy. Sylvain feels some type of way about seeing them kiss and Edgar being handsy with Felix and Felix allowing it.


End file.
